Time Gone By
by Elmaria's secret
Summary: As Harry nears forty, it appears everything has worked out for the Weasleys. But what of old enemies? And what of new friends? Danger lurks round the corner, and this time Harry isn't prepared...


**HI GUYS!**

**THIS IS A PILOT OF MY NEW HARRY POTTER FANFIC, AND I'M NOT GONNA LIE... I'M EXCITED ABOUT THIS ONE. ****I'M A THIRD OF THE WAY THROUGH THE WHOLE THING, BUT I WANTED YOUR OPINIONS ON MY NEW (AND HOPEFULLY IMPROVED) STYLE OF WRITING.  
****IF I GET 20 REVIEWS I WILL PUT CHAPTER 2 UP STRAIGHT AWAY. ****I'M HOPING TO KEEP THIS REGULAR, A ONE-A-WEEK JOBBY. SO... REVIEWS PLEASE?**

**THANK YOU FOR BEING GREAT.  
****ELMARIA'S SECRET Xx**

* * *

A nasty wail rode the wind as it slashed through the muddled streets of London, crashing into firmly-bolted front doors and rattling desperately locked windows. The night was icy and clear and cloudless, with no disturbance from mist or fog to obscure the view of those inhabiting the city below. Despite the stars hanging in the sky like the outcome of a thousand shattered suns and the moon's lazy presence in the east, London appeared a dark place. All alleyways appeared threatening; all corners too dark, all streets too shadowed... the silence too quiet.

Regardless of the calendar's insistence that it wasn't even November, it was clear to all that resided in the UK that Winter had just begun. The city was swallowed by Christmas decorations and the holiday industry was captivating the main roads. The grey, monotonous offices were swallowed by red tinsel and green swags, melting beneath cheap fairy-lights and giant Santas. None of this festive joy appeared to spread to the streets below that sat already praying for warmer days and kinder chills.

xXxXxXx

Molly Weasley sat at her dressing table in her bedroom at The Burrow, staring fixedly at her appearance in the glass. Today, she had turned seventy and she couldn't help but feel old. She very rarely felt old, for she was a lively and vibrant woman who rarely sat still. She couldn't see any difference in herself or her husband, they were exactly the same as they had been when they'd married over forty years ago. Her children, on the other hand, had grown older so fast and now she had been a grandmother for nearly two decades. This made her feel old.

The world was a different place these days, but the scars of the second war still remained and it was only the young that took it for granted. Molly felt like a patriot, scorning those who joked about the war and reminiscing with those it was still affecting. The Weasleys were strong these days, an even bigger unit of love, kindness and understanding, despite the fact that most of Molly's grandchildren were teenagers and were driving their parents mad. These days the biggest trials within the family were teenagers and work and money and politics... and normal, trivial things. The funny thing was... no one was bored, it was what they'd always wanted.

Sighing happily, Molly reached across to her jewellery box, which was almost empty other than three necklaces. She found her favourite, prettiest pearl necklace and wrapped it slowly round her neck before attaching the clasp behind her. Slowly and rigidly, she pulled herself up out of her seat, holding her back as she did so, before turning to examine her whole self in the wall mirror.

She was sure she was getting shorter these days, her long, cream, tunic dress was now firmly reaching the floor, whereas when she first inherited it from her mother forty years ago it had fallen just above her ankles. Molly sighed and summoned her most comfortable cork shoes. They only had a slight heel, but she couldn't bear to wear anything less comfortable at her age.

Molly didn't notice Arthur enter the room until he wrapped his arms around her, making her start slightly.

"Hello, my beauty," he greeted her, kissing her head (which was at least a foot and a half closer to the ground than his). "Are you ready?"

"Of course," Molly replied softly stroking her husband's arm that was wrapping her in his embrace. "I hope we aren't too early, Ginny is a lovely cook and I wouldn't want to alarm her."

Molly had demanded very little fuss on her birthday and had agreed to go to her daughters for a nice dinner without the kids. Molly loved her grandchildren, but these days she didn't want to trouble everyone with looking after grandma. She was sure her grandchildren would rather be off with their friends, but she would never turn down the offer of spending time with her only daughter, especially if it was Ginny who was cooking.

Arthur turned Molly to face him before taking his wand and flicking out all the lanterns in the house so that he and Molly stood holding hands in the dark. Somehow, standing in the dark felt incredibly romantic to Molly, she smiled as Arthur spoke. "Ginny will be fine dear, she just owled me saying she was ready."

Molly couldn't help but still feel the strong, passionate love she'd felt for her husband from the moment she'd met him. Of course, these days they weren't all over each other like schoolchildren but there was still that spark between them when they held hands or sat on the sofa together in the cold evenings.

Molly wrapped her arms around Arthur as he disapparated them to the Potter's. Harry and Ginny lived in a large cottage in the small wizarding village to the west of Regent's park. Despite the fact that both Harry and Ginny had modest upbringings, they still revelled in their upscale home, which beheld much larger, grander proportions inside than out. The area was surprisingly quiet and traditional. The Potter's cottage - from the outside - was a cosy, wobbly looking, cream structure that felt rustic from the moment you stepped in the front gate.

Mrs Weasley opened her eyes when she felt Harry and Ginny's gravelled driveway beneath her feet and took a deep breath of the the icy, humid air that surrounded her.

Arthur surprised Molly by opening the front door straight away, without knocking or ringing. Before she had time to scold him he guided her swiftly into the large entrance hall of the manor house within the Potter's cottage exterior.

The house was eerily quiet, Molly peered round curiously but all the doors were closed.

"Harry?" Arthur called confidently, whilst slipping his coat off.

"In the living room, Arthur!" was Harry's booming reply, coming from the door to the right that led to the living room. He sounded exasperated, or irritated... Molly couldn't tell which one.

Arthur smiled at Molly. "After you..." he bid her to the door. Slowly and cautiously she opened it, keeping her eyes on Arthur as she did so, only to be frightened out of her skin when a roof-shaking roar erupted from the living room.

Over a hundred people were crowded within the living room, they all smiled as they chorused "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" to the poor, unsuspecting Molly. Molly's children were all roughly at the front of the mosh, grinning their toothy smiles and laughing at the shock on their mother's face. Molly still felt dazed as Arthur scooped her up in a hug from behind, laughing joyfully with the rest of the family.

"Oh... gosh!" Molly cried, her hands flying to her mouth, before turning to Arthur. "You knew about this?"

Arthur chuckled heartily, "Of course dear," he replied kissing her head. "Happy Birthday!"

"Oh you are a horrible man!" Molly told him, only half-joking.

Molly turned away from him to greet all her children and grandchildren as they all enveloped her in hugs and kisses, proud of their surprise. Molly studied the room as she embraced her family: It was covered in at least a dozen banners, reading "Happy Birthday!" and "We love you, Grandma!". Tiny sparklers flew round the room, exploding randomly before disappearing in the air and appearing somewhere else in the vast room. Horns and ribbons and party hats buzzed around excitedly, flying round and round and buzzing up and down. Molly felt overwhelmed with appreciation and love for her entire family who had gone to so much effort to celebrate her birthday.

She scanned the room, seeing a familiar faces everywhere she looked: Minerva McGonagall, Dedalus Diggle, Elphias Doge, Aberforth, Arabella Figg, Hagrid, Neville and Hannah, Hestia Jones. Kingsley, Xenophilius Lovegood, Luna, Teddy, Tiberius Ogden, The Patils...

"Mum..? " Came Ginny's comforting voice from the crowd of people. "Are you okay?"

Molly felt Ginny's soft hands on her arm and smiled. "I'm fine, Ginny Dear... never been better."

A couple of hours later, and the party was still in full swing. Molly sat with Arthur, who in turn had Percy's twins Molly and Lucy on his lap and was drawing them shapes in the air with his wand. The two six years olds were mesmerised and stared at their grandpa with admiration. Molly perused the room, watching as all the young people in it danced and chatted and laughed. Somehow, they didn't make her feel old. She just felt as if she'd had her time. It was her time to watch, it had been for a long time. She'd already watched the last generation grow old. It had been 23 years since the war and already her grandchildren were turning into adults. Molly's eldest grandchild, Victoire, had spent a while with her grandmother before being whisked off to the dance floor by Teddy, her recent fiancé. The idea that her granddaughter was getting married was shocking yet welcome, especially since Molly had practically raised Teddy herself, along with his godfather. Harry especially was delighted that his godson and his niece were getting married, it meant Teddy would officially be part of the Weasley family, something he'd always wanted to be.

Molly turned her attention towards the dancers and smiled to see that the parents in this situation were dominating the floor. George and Angie were in full swing dancing and jumping to the same music they'd danced to when they were younger. Hermione had dragged a typically stubborn Ron onto the dance floor and despite the fast pace of the song they were dancing very slowly, their faces touching. Their love was something that filled the room when they were in it and Molly was very proud of her son for opening up to Hermione all those years ago, she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Percy was dancing with Audrey, his kind yet timid wife. Audrey was barely shuffling whilst Percy danced as if he'd charmed himself an extra limb. Molly was glad his daughters weren't old enough to be embarrassed by him yet.

Bill was leaning on the mantle above the fireplace having a rowdy, playful argument with Aberforth and Charlie, Fleur stood next to him chatting to a group of small children who had came over to admire her. Bill and Fleur had stuck together through thick and thin and Molly couldn't understand her initial dislike for Fleur when they'd first met. These days, Molly considered Fleur one of her closest, albeit much younger, friends.

For what felt like the millionth time that night, Molly smiled contentedly. All her babies were happy, and all their babies were happy. Molly caught sight of fifteen year old Lily passing in the distance and automatically wondered where Ginny had got to. Lily was almost an exact clone of her mother and Molly had been known to confuse the two sometimes, the main difference was that Lily was almost always upset about something. She was far too pretty for her own good and was always weeping over some male or other.

Just as Molly rose off the sofa in search of her daughter, a loud crash echoed around the room, causing the music to stop. The whole room was slapped into silence as another, quieter clash came from the kitchen.

Ginny's voice, shrill and furious followed the crash, "You're an asshole, you know that?" she roared.

Molly recognised her tone and with a speed that was to be admired for someone of her age, flicked the music back on and catching Hermione and Fleur's eye, nodded them in encouragement to get everyone dancing again. Arthur looked concerned yet content to stay with his granddaughters as Molly headed towards the kitchen. By the time she'd reached the lobby the party was in full swing again. The Kitchen door, which was directly opposite the living room, was ajar only slightly. Molly could hear GInny's raised voice from inside still.

"Why'd you have to be such an arrogant bastard?" she yelled, Molly saw through the gap in the door that she was leaning on the island in the middle of the room, staring straight ahead. She assumed Harry was directly opposite her, behind the door.

"What have I done now, Gin?" Harry's voice was tiered and irritated. "What? You wanted this!"

Ginny sighed and flicked her long, red hair behind her. "I want you to at least make an effort."

"Make an _effort_?" Harry scoffed. "I threw this bloody charade for your mother. I WANTED to, Gin. She's been very good to me-"

"I know that! I'm not an idiot, Harry. I just want you to act like a sociable human being for once. Those people aren't press, they aren't blood-sucking ministry officials. They're our _friends. _Jesus, you even blanked Ron!"

Harry was silent for a second before sweeping round to the Ginny's side. He didn't want to fight with Ginny, he'd just been starting to enjoy the party before GInny had dragged him into the kitchen. Molly shuffled out of sight slightly more, in fear of being caught eavesdropping.

"I'm being sociable, just... let me talk to who I want to talk to..?" he almost begged. "And I didn't blank Ron, he-"

Ginny sighed and turned her back on him. "You've been famous for nearly forty years Harry, _forty years, _surely you've learned to deal with all the attention by now?"

"Would you rather I had? Would you rather I was some pompous asshole who posed for photos while trying to use a public bathroom? Or shall I just head out now in a bloody Santa suit and sing merry jo-holly-fucking-christmas to all the orphans and shake Kingsley's hand for press every time he signs a new pointless, egotistic, politically fuck-tarded new bill? Maybe that's what type of husband you'd like? A stupid kiss-ass who has about as much character as a dung-bomb? Maybe you'd stop treating _him_ like shit- "

Molly heard Ginny's slap him before she saw it. The noise ricocheted around the kitchen and Molly winced, watching Harry stand still as if he'd barely felt it. Molly knew that physically, Harry had felt a great deal more pain than Ginny's hand but knew how morally sick something like a slap would make her adoptive son feel. The couple stood completely still, taking in what had just happened between them.

Ginny stared Harry in the eyes for a few seconds, her eyes full of angry tears before storming to the kitchen door Molly was hiding behind. Molly tottled across the hallway as fast as he old legs would take her and just reached the living room door in time to close it as if she were just entering the hallway. Ginny jolted at the sight of her mother before forcing a smile and rushing up the grand staircase, stumbling over her dress as she hid in the master bedroom.

Molly was tempted to follow, but experience told her it was better not to try and comfort Ginny when she was in a state. Instead she slipped into the kitchen to find Harry, his head buried in his hands, leaning on the island shamefacedly.

"A sorry would've done it," Molly told him quietly, closing the door gently behind her, blocking out the noise of the party in the main room.

"Oh!" Harry jumped at the sound of Molly's voice and stood up. Molly was shocked to see his eyes were extremely watery. "Molly! Hi... how's the party?"

"It's lovely dear," Molly assured him, heading to the sink and wetting a towel before holding it to Harry's face. She wasn't sure what to do here, whether to be angry at Harry or not. He was practically her son, yet he had been extremely rude and spiteful towards her daughter, she tried to assure herself it was none of her business, but she knew that wouldn't work.

"I'm sorry, Molly," Harry told her as she wetted the pink hand-print on his cheek, so as to bring down the colour. "I've been so inconsiderate, I don't know why. This is your birthday and I'm ruining it..."

Molly chuckled slightly, surprising Harry. "Harry, I raised seven, rowdy, red-haired, loud-mouthed children... if I let arguments and tears ruin every special occasion for my family and I, where would I be now?"

Harry smiled, remembering teenage life at the Weasley's. So many hormones, mixed with a waging war, chemical experiments and ministry interference... it was chaos. His argument with Ginny was the equivalent of 'pass-the-butter' in the Weasley's younger days. Yet he knew it was more serious because he was supposed to be the adult now and he'd been very childish towards Ginny.

"It would be nice to go back there, wouldn't it?" Harry asked quietly, taking the towel from Molly quietly before rinsing it in the sink. He sighed loudly before turning away from the sink and leaning back on his elbows. "Back to the old days, when I had an acceptable reason for all this... angst."

"Angst?" Molly inquired, curious. Harry seemed genuinely happy to her most of the time.

Harry sighed. "Oh I don't know, I'm just a miserable sod most of the time Molly. I'm not great company, it seems the only people that don't want a piece of me anymore are my family. It makes me think back, you know... to the good old days."

Molly raised a questioning eyebrow.

"What?" Harry enquired, curiously.

"I don't know about you Harry," Molly told him, pulling up a chair at the island. "But those days were the worst of my life. Worst than the first war... much worse."

"How so?"

"Oh I don't know... it's just that in the first war it was just Arthur and I... and I didn't worry about Arthur, he's a lot quicker than he looks. No, in the second war I had nine extra lives to worry about. NINE. Many of which were underage for the most of it. You can't understand it... it's constant worry. You can't imagine the fear every visitor or owl or meeting brought to my heart. Every second I was just expecting to lose one of my babies. My children are my life, Harry, and Voldemort could've knocked me down with one blow, right at the beginning if he'd wanted to. I suppose I should feel lucky that Fred lasted 'til the end, because if he'd been taken from me at the beginning... I wouldn't have made it through that war..."

Harry nodded, not really understanding but trying to empathise. He frowned. "Nine?" he asked, confused.

Molly smiled slightly. "Harry," she sighed. "You and Hermione are as much my children as all those red haired monsters in there. You especially. I've tried to be a mother to you, Harry. It's not a one way thing, you've been a wonderful son as well."

Harry wrapped Molly is a tight embrace, and as usual, her touch made him feel that he had a mother in this world. Molly was his saviour and always had been.

"I'll go find Ginny," Harry proclaimed, pulling away from his mother-in-law before ruffling his hair nervously. "Maybe I can chuck one of the kids in there first, to calm her down..."

"Harry!" Molly scorned, smiling. "Get upstairs."

Begrudgingly, Harry followed Molly's instructions and dragged himself upstairs, smiling slightly as he heard the sounds of the party behind him. He really was trying to be a good host but he'd had the press on his case about the new underage magic bill all day and hadn't been in the mood to entertain straight away once he'd got home, despite the fact this party had been planned for months. He felt more positive now though, now that Molly had comforted him.

Now was the hard part. As he reached his and Ginny's room he couldn't help but be apprehensive. Harry and Ginny rarely fought, they were a happy, busy, loving couple and enjoyed their lives together... and mainly because the wrath of Ginevra Potter was feared throughout the wizarding world.

Harry heard a gentle sobbing as he poked his head in the doorway, his heart sunk. He hated seeing his wife cry, but to his surprise it wasn't Ginny crying and his earlier comment had came to life of it's own accord; Ginny was sat on the bed, straight faced - though her eyes were red and puffy - muttering comforting words to Lily, who was weeping quietly onto her mother's shoulder.

Lately, Harry had been clumsily walking in on this type of situation whenever Lily was home from school. His fifteen year old daughter was extremely emotional and it terrified Harry. There were many things he could deal with: Dementors, Death eaters, Murderers, Lunatics, Politicians, Press, the most feared wizard of all time... but his fifteen year old crying over boys made his blood turn cold. There had been an incident over the summer when Ginny was at work and Lily had returned home in a state... lets just say Harry was not prepared. He really hated having the most beautiful daughter in the world sometimes; she was just one big broken heart.

Harry caught Ginny's eye as he slipped in the door; her eyes really were bloodshot but she was standing firm for her daughter, who was in a state next to her. It was odd sometimes, seeing Ginny and Lily together: It was like Ginny comforting her younger self. The only difference now was that older Ginny was glaring at him, miming the words "piss off". Harry did so willingly, promising himself he'd talk to Ginny later. Slowly, feeling deflated, Harry slumped back into the kitchen and poured himself a firewisky, Molly stood waiting for him.

"So..?" she asked, curiously.

Harry quickly and awkwardly explained the womanly situation going on upstairs before slipping out the room as Molly chuckled at him. Harry grabbed a random glass of butterbeer as he slipped back into the main room, where it had calmed down considerably. Harry realised that he'd been gone over an hour, and as it neared eleven it seemed the adults were all slowing down and the teenagers speeding up. Almost everyone Harry's age had a teenage child and the room was definitely dominated by them: Luna's boys, Lorcan and Lysander were sat in the corner with Albus and Hugo performing card tricks with their wands. Fred, James and Louis were happily chatting up a couple of Lily's friends and apparently succeeding, as they were already worryingly close to one another. Roxanne and Rose sat together in front of the fireplace, talking in very serious whispers. Neville and Hannah's oddly bold daughters, Bethany and Alice, were dancing excitably with Bill's second, Dominique, who was an exact image of her mother. The three girls giggled and smiled and Harry noticed Dominique's eyes flickering towards Neville's brooding, painfully shy son, Frankie.

Harry slipped through what appeared to be the main mass of general teenagers and headed towards the part of the room that consisted of a dozen beanbags that the adults appeared to be dominating... and falling asleep in.

Harry threw himself into the empty beanbag between Ron and Neville. These days Neville was as much part of the family as Harry himself; Neville, Hannah and their children were at every family event and every party. Harry, Ron and Neville were famous throughout London for their exploits in the Leaky Cauldron. Harry appeared to be interrupting a heated debate over the new ministry bill to permit underage wizards to perform magic within their own homes out of sight of muggles:

"I just think it's takin' the mick!" Ron told Neville and Harry,defiantly.

"Why? I think it's a good idea, if underage students can practice at home then grades will shoot through the roof." argued Neville, as Herbology teacher at Hogwarts, was always very involved with any new education bills. His position had changed Neville over the years, giving him this powerful, dominating presence when he was in a room. He was no longer dorky Neville Longbottom, he was Professor Longbottom.

"They'll just piss abou' though," Ron told Neville adamantly, looking at Harry for support. As Ron turned in Harry's direction he caught the full whiff of how much Ron had drunk and suddenly felt nostalgic for a debate with a drunken Ron - nothing was quite as much fun as confusing a drunk Ron.

"I don't know Ron..." Harry sighed theatrically, smirking. "The grades _would_ go up... are you sure you just don't think you can handle it?"

Neville snorted loudly in his butterbeer at the horrified look on drunk Ron's face. "Can't handle it?" Ron squealed. "I could handle it if I wanted to... I totally could. I jus' fink it's wrong.`'

Neville rolled his eyes, catching onto Harry's game. "_Sure _you do Ron. We believe you..."

Neville and Harry continued to torment and irritate Ron for over an hour, laughing with him and at him as he slowly got more and more wound up, and his face slowly turned pinker and pinker.

"Don't be assholes. Bloody bast-"

"Ronald!" Hermione scorned, slipping up behind him, also slightly tipsy but always in control. The only thing that gave her away was her tripping over on her way towards Ron. "Can you please not talk like that round the children!"

"They're worse!"

"No they're not-"

"Are!"

"...not."

"Are!"

Hermione looked thoroughly irritated and scowled at Harry and Neville, who sniggered playfully."Ron, come on... you know they're-" she attempted to continue.

"ARE, ARE, ARE!" Ron roared, folding his arms like a five year old. his voice forced George and Angie - who had been snoozing peacefully, along with Bill and Fleur - to both wake with a start. Harry and Neville rolled around with laughter.

"Ron, you pillock!" George groaned, pulling Angie closer. "Shut up..."

Angie rubbed her eyes and, leaning over George's arm, squinting at her watch. "George..." she yawned, pushing herself into a sitting position. "It's past midnight... we need to get home."

Whilst Hermione dragged Ron out the room, George rubbed his eyes sleepily before forcing himself to stand and pulling Angie up. Harry watched as they scanned the room for their children, but both appeared to have disappeared. Harry absentmindedly searched the room for them, only just noticing that Arthur was asleep on the sofa along with little Molly and Lucy. Harry realised that he hadn't seen Ginny since their argument and shiftily heaved himself out of the beanbag in search of her, leaving the beanbags to Luna and Rolf; Neville and Hannah; and Bill and Fleur, all of whom were now drifting in and out of sleep. Many of the guests appeared to have left already.

Harry crept across the room, careful not to wake Arthur as he slipped out into the hallway where he collided with Charlie and Ginny's boss, Elladora Edwards. The two fell out of Harry's downstairs toilet, groping each other as they did so. Charlie appeared to be wearing most of Elladora's lipstick and all Harry could feel was admiration for Charlie's stamina at his age. The couple stopped in seeing Harry - Elladora attempted to pull her skirt down. He really wasn't sure whether to be angry or not. He didn't have time to decide, as Charlie merely winked at him before disapparating with Elladora. Harry merely shrugged, closed the door behind them and carried on heading for the kitchen.

Harry was slightly apprehensive as he entered an energetic mother's meeting surrounding the kitchen island. Molly, Hermione, Ginny, Parvati, Victoire, Lily, Roxanne and Rose, all stood quietly talking together (Ron was passed out on the breakfast table). Harry regretted not having peered in quietly as he entered the room and slipping out quietly, but it was too late once they'd all seen him. He attempted to appear nonchalant as he strolled in but he couldn't help but notice the collective distaste for his presence. Ginny didn't even turn to look at him, something all the females in the room were completely aware of and they all stopped their murmurs and scowled at him for good measure. Harry whistled past them and attempted to slip behind Ginny and Parvati to his bottle of firewisky, Parvati gave Harry a glare that made him back away cautiously to the doorway. Harry turned to speak to the women - he wasn't sure what he was about to say - , but before any words came out a huge roar erupted from the back of the house.

Instinct taught Harry to quickly throw himself over the island and to the door out the back of the kitchen through the porch door and into the study where someone was roaring furiously. Harry skidded into the room, feeling Ginny crash into him from behind, to see a puce-faced George holding his son against the wall by the collar screaming in his face.

"What the bloody hell d'you think you're up to!" George demanded, shaking him slightly.

Fred merely shrugged calmly and pushed his father off of him lightly.

"Don't just bloody shrug! ANSWER ME!"

It took Harry a few seconds to calculate what was going on; he glanced round the room and saw Angie holding a dishevelled looking teenage girl by the arm and glaring at her furiously as she attempted to arrange her hair back into place. It was only when Harry saw she was holding a pair of tights, and Fred doing his belt up that it clicked.

"Aaaw, Fred!" Harry moaned, disbelieving "Not in my house!"

"Sorry Uncle Harry," Fred replied, clearly trying not smile.

"NO YOU'RE BLOODY NOT SORRY!" George told him, pushing him back into a wall with a force that made Angie take a nervous step forward before trusting in her husband. "It's rude, it's inconsiderate... and you're too young!" George was not taking his discovery lightly. "Bloody Merlin, Fred! I can't believe you've been such a wanker!"

"George!" Angie scolded, only half-heartedly as she too bore the full weight of her fury with her face.

Harry put his face in his hand, genuinely exhausted as all the women folk attempted to file in the room behind him. "It's not big enough in here everyone, just go!" He told them, irritably. All but Ginny followed his orders as George and Ange attempted to get through to Fred's... acquaintance.

"How could you want to do that?" cried George. "You can't be any older than sixteen!" he paused for a second, before his face went slightly pale. "Sweet Merlin, tell me you're at least sixteen!"

"Yeah..." the girl answered, slouching back onto the desk. "I am, which means I can do it if I like-"

"Sure you can!" George told her. "But not with MY son, in MY sister's house in MY brother-in-law's fucking study! Now get out of my sight you dirty little whore!"

"GEORGE!"

Molly Weasley's presence overshadowed her son's fury and he looked slightly sheepish as she and Arthur strolled in the room.

"Now Son," Arthur told him. "You can't talk to a girl like that, no matter what she's done."

"But-"

"NO George." Molly snapped.

"I'll take her home," Arthur volunteered. He caught the grin on her face and glared at her. "And I'll be talking to her parents... not smiling now are we?"

"I'm off now as well," Molly announced, kissing an unusually quiet Ginny on the cheek. Everyone began to object but Molly held her hand up, "I am Grandma, far too old to be awake now let alone involved in... teenage matters. Goodnight everybody, and thank you ever so much." With a smile Molly, Arthur and the girl all disapparated at once.

George turned back to his son, "We need to talk." He growled.

"Oh come on, Dad!" Fred whined, "It's not that big a deal!"

"Not that big a deal? Not that big a deal! How in any way is this not I big deal?"

Fred sighed, "Well it's not, compared to what James is doin' and you were the same when you were my age-"

"Whoa there!"Harry held up his hands frantically and sped towards Fred, panicking slightly. "What _exactly _do you mean 'compared to what James is doin'?"

Fred froze. "Aaw shit." he mumbled.

"JAMES!" Harry roared, pushing past Fred through the door into the lounge. "JAMES SIRIUS POTTER, WHERE ARE YOU?" Harry continued roaring as he sped through the lounge, waking the beanbag kippers.

"JAMES!" Harry could hear Ginny's voice in the lobby and they met at the bottom of the stairs and glanced up the stairs at James' bedroom door, which was shut.

"After three?" Ginny requested.

"Of course."

The two parents spoke together, " One. Two. Three."

On three Harry disapparated, leaving a confused Ginny running up the stairs alone. He didn't have time to think about it though, as he apparated into James' room he attempted to cover his eyes.

"JAMES! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

"Shit, dad!"

Harry had caught James with a girl, as he'd expected but Harry was extremely shocked to see that she was wearing nothing but her underwear whilst James was in in his shirt and his boxers. Not the most shocking sight in the world, apart from the fact that James had been on top of her when Harry had apparated in.

"Please, god, don't tell mum!" James begged, turning towards his father.

Before Harry could speak, the bedroom door slammed open and Ginny stormed in.

"Oh bollocks, James!" Ginny stumbled into Harry as she caught sight of the situation. Automatically Harry grabbed her arm as she went to claw towards the girl. "You little...!" Ginny screamed, struggling from Harry's grasp. "Get the fuck out my house! GET OUT! NOW!"

The girl, not taking a chance, grabbed her clothes and shoes on the floor and disapparated within seconds. Leaving James alone in the room with his parents, thoroughly shitting himself.

"This reminds me of a bad dream I had once," James joked, grimacing before flopping back onto his bed.

"Oh really?" Ginny snarled. "So you've had a dream about us catching you trying to bed an older girl on your Chudley Canon sheets at your grandmother's seventieth birthday party? Oh that's a bloody great one James!"

"OBVIOUSLY, I didn't mean that!" James snapped. "I meant-"

"OI!" Harry roared, stepping towards his son furiously. "You're going to even ATTEMPT to be lippy right now? REALLY? Because the way I see it, you should be grovelling so I don't stick your _fucking wand _where the sun don't shine. We'll see how many girls you can bed after that, eh?"

Harry sighed before leaning back on the wall and rubbing his temples, as Ginny stood silently, smoothing his arm. Their son sat on his bed quietly, apprehensive. Harry was a very calm man, so to se Harry lose his temper was never something to joke about.

"Just... _why_?" Harry sighed, burying his face in his hands for the second time that night. "Did you really think you'd get away with it?"

"I would've, if it wasn't for bloody Fred..."

"DON'T!" Ginny snapped. "We don't care about what Fred did, James. We care about YOU!"

"What's going on?"

Lily's voice startled the three, they turned to see an out of breath Lily, Roxanne, Rose and Albus in the hallway, all peering curiously into the argument.

"Lily!" Harry growled. "Can you please, just take everyone downstairs? In fact, send everyone home. Tell them mum and I are too busy killing our son to host."

"Harry!" Ginny scolded. "Don't be so ridiculous! We won't kill him... well not straight away. We'll have to torture him first."

"My thoughts exactly!" Harry replied, glaring at James quickly. "Just, go Lily!" Harry ordered, flicking his hand at the door so as to slam it. He would apologise later for being snappy at his daughter.

Once the others were safely back outside, Ginny and Harry turned back to their eldest son, making sure fury was still firmly implanted on both their faces.

"So, come on James!" Ginny jeered, sitting next to him at the end of the bed. "Tell us why!"

James frowned and backed away from his mother, Harry noticed so as James attempted to hide his arousal under his covers.

"Sorry?" he asked, nervous and horribly embarrassed still.

"Why?" Ginny demanded, cocking her head. "I mean, come on; She isn't your girlfriend is she? How is Lauren by the way? Don't know? I expected as much." Ginny had a worrying look of dislike on her face that tickled Harry with fear for his son's safety. Despite the fact he was erging towards _cruciatus _ himself.

"This one wasn't even that pretty James!" Ginny continued. "I guess, sure her legs finely resembled a racehorse but apart from that she was nothing special, not worthy to enter _the master's bedroom_, surely?"

"Mum!" James moaned, desperately attempting to hide under the covers. "You make me sound like a right prick!"

"THAT'S BECAUSE YOU ARE ONE!" Ginny roared.

"Ginny..." Harry interrupted, feeling pity for his son. "Shall we leave him for a second to... sort himself out?"

Ginny merely scoffed, "You can talk, _Harry Potter_. Where d'you reckon he gets if from?" She tried not smile but Harry caught what she meant and felt his own cheeks redden slightly.

"But no!" She turned back to her son. "You know, it's boys like you that are the reason your sister spends most of her life crying!"

"Hey!" James retorted. "I would never hurt someone like Lily!"

"DON'T YELL AT ME!" Ginny roared, working herself into a deeper fury. "You think you're so _special _James?" she spat. "Because you're just like every other little TOERAG I spend my life comforting my daughter over. "

Ginny paused to breath, and climbed back to standing position. She buried her face in Harry's neck before, turning back to her son who looked thoroughly ashamed.

"I'm sorry..." he muttered, his voice breaking.

Harry opened his mouth to speak but Ginny got there first, "But you're _NOT, _James. Can't you see? You're upset now because you're thinking of your sister, but you're not thinking of that poor girl that just disapparated out of here, are you? Do you even know her name?"

"Agatha."

"Her last name?"

James paused, realising his mother's point.

"You don't even know her last name..." Ginny sighed, and the disappointment in her expression slit her son like a knife. "You were willing to do... this, with a girl who's full name you've no idea of. Things like that are important to people James. She may have been willing, but all those sweet nothings you whispered into her ear will be keeping her going right now. She'll say to herself, 'Oh well, we didn't do it and I'm in serious trouble but at least James still loves me...' then you'll go back to school tomorrow, see her and abandon her and the rest of the year she'll be tortured by nights where she can't sleep through crying and avoiding you and your girlfriend in the halls, despite the fact _you're_ the one in the wrong _she'll _get the punishment. And all you wanted was to get laid..."

"Mum..." James whimpered, "I'm _so _sorry... I didn't think-"

"And until you do, you're apology means nothing. In fact, it offends me."

With that Ginny stormed out of the room, leaving a shellshocked Harry with his shellshocked son staring gormlessly at the spot she'd just vacated. James looked at his dad, waiting for him to say something.

"Dad..." he whispered. "I'm sorry..."

Harry sighed and leaned his forehead on James' bedroom wall. He couldn't think what to say. He felt so... disrespected, so ashamed.

"I'll tell you this," Harry growled, thinking about the state his wife was in. He had to lay down the law, that was his job. "If you EVER do anything like that again, at home... at school... anywhere before you've left my house then you're out. Do you understand? OUT. O.U.T... I'm not having you get your mother in a state like that again, she's too good to be put through that. I wont have it. Now, owl Agatha whats-her-face, APOLOGISE until your balls feel thoroughly crushed and go to bed... see you at Christmas, maybe by then you'll be acting like my son again."


End file.
